


you were not the monster that i knew

by MagicaLyss



Series: Bluer Than The Sky (Whumptober 2019) [25]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Good With Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaLyss/pseuds/MagicaLyss
Summary: Whumptober Day Twenty-Eight. BeatenHe sniffles, tears springing to his eyes, and he hides his face against Tony’s stomach. “Don’t wanna go through that again.”He can feel Tony’s tired sigh, and he feels awful for putting this kind of pressure on Tony, but he’s only seventeen and he’s scared and after the beating he went through, he just wants to go home.“I know, kiddo, I know.”The rest goes unsaid. There’s nothing he can do.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Bluer Than The Sky (Whumptober 2019) [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1502675
Comments: 7
Kudos: 185





	you were not the monster that i knew

This was definitely not the way Peter was planning on spending his Winter Break.  
  


His plan was to hang out with the Starks at their cabin, watch Christmas movies, drink hot chocolate, have slumber parties with Morgan every night, invite Ned and MJ round, attend a few holiday parties, get caught up in all his schoolwork.  
  


Getting kidnapped was not a part of his plans.  
  


Getting kidnapped _with Tony_ was definitely not part of his plans.  
  


But he should be used to things going haywire by now.  
  


The people who took them definitely shouldn’t be old enough to be kidnapping people.  
  


One girl, probably twenty years old, at the latest, swings a crowbar to rest on her shoulder, chewing bubblegum and kicking the ground with her Doc Martens.  
  


“You don’t have to be doing this,” Peter says, forever the one to take the passive route. “Whoever you’re working for, they can’t control you. We can help you.”  
  


“We don’t work for anyone, bug,” a boy replies, rolling his dark eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. He’s got a roll of barbed wire against his hip, hanging down to his knees.  
  


The boy beside him has a meat tenderizer and he pulls a pill bottle out of his pocket and pops one.  
  


There’s a total of six of them, all around their early twenties from what Peter can guess, and all with a worrying arrangement of makeshift weapons.  
  


“You still don’t need to do this,” Peter continues. He’s doesn’t want to fight them, that’s the last thing he wants to do. “We can help you.”  
  


“Like we’d want _your_ help,” the first girl says, rolling her eyes. “We’ve got a job to do, so I’d suggest you shut your mouth before you make this any worse for yourself.”  
  


But shutting up has never been one of Peter’s strong suits. “You don’t have to do this. Think about it for a second. You’re young and you’ve got a lot to-”  
  


“Peter!” Tony hisses, wide eyes glaring at him. “Shut up. Please.”  
  


It’s too late for that though, because the group moves forward in sync like they’ve planned for this.  
  


  
*  
  


Dizzy and in more pain than imaginable, Peter blinks his eyes open.

  
Tony’s kneeling over him, bloodshot eyes flicking between his stomach and his face, hands putting pressure on his left leg.  
  


“Shit,” he groans, falling into a coughing fit. “That hurts like a bitch.”  
  


“Fucking- When they come back, you’re going to do what they tell you to, okay? You’re not going to pull any of that bullshit again.”  
  


Peter squints up at Tony, trying his best to remember what happened. It’s a little hazy after the boy with the meat tenderizer took a swing at him, but he definitely remembers being tied up with the barbed wire.  
  


There had been a lot of weapons they’d been trading between. Crowbar, meat tenderizer, one of them had 6 colorful darts and had thrown them at him like he was a dartboard, another had a dumbbell.  
  


“Did you see?” Peter asks. He’s not exactly sure why that’s the most important thing he needs to know, but he can remember screaming, and he hopes Tony didn’t have to see that happening to him.  
  


Tony shakes his head, still applying pressure to Peter’s leg. He wonders what happened to him, but he doesn’t want to ask.  
  


“A couple of them dragged me across the hall to another room after I tried to fight them.” He lifts his hand, knuckles wrapped in gauze. “Got a lucky hit in with one of them, but I was at a disadvantage.”  
  


“How bad am I lookin’?” Peter asks, head lolling to the side. He’s in too much pain to really pinpoint where it’s coming from.  
  


Tony winces. “Pretty bad, kiddo, hate to say it…”  
  


Letting out a sigh, Peter grabs at Tony’s shirt and hauls himself into a sitting position with Tony’s help.  
  


“Any idea why they did this?” Peter asks. It’s taking more energy then he’d like to admit just to stay conscious. “Motives? Organizations? Anything?”  
  


Tony shakes his head, letting go of Peter’s leg to pull off his hoodie leaving him in an old rock t-shirt. “When I was brought back, you had already passed out, beaten within an inch of your life, and they left. Didn’t say anything to me.”  
  


It takes a little while of silence while Tony tears his hoodie into strips before wrapping Peter in tourniquets. His left leg, right upper arm, left forearm, head, stomach, chest.  
  


Turns out, Peter had been bleeding quite a bit after they’d removed the darts.  
  


“There we go,” Tony murmurs, sitting back. He looks like he’s been crying, but Peter’s not quite sure how to comfort him.  
  


“’m okay,” he slurs. His head’s pounding and his ears are ringing, but he tries his best to focus on Tony through the fog. “Rho’ey’s gonna fin’ us?”  
  


Tony smiles shakily. “Yeah, Rhodey’s going to find us, kiddo. For now, get some rest. Let your healing do it’s job, alright? I’ll watch over you.”  
  


Without another word, Peter shuffles down, body aching at the movement and cold seeping through the concrete, and he rests his head on Tony’s leg, pushing his face against Tony’s stomach.  
  


Tony wraps his good arm around Peter’s shoulders, hand resting firmly on the back of his neck.  
  


“I’ll keep you safe.”

  
*  
  
  
This time, when he comes to, the pain’s a little less insistent, but the fear is seeping into him like a disease.  
  


“Mister Stark?” he asks. He feels like a little kid, curling into Tony with warmth and comfort, desperate for even a little bit of safety.  
  


Tony looks down at him, gently brushing back his curls with a soft smile. “Hey, kiddo. How’re you feeling?”  
  


He sniffles, tears springing to his eyes, and he hides his face against Tony’s stomach. “Don’t wanna go through that again.”  
  


He can feel Tony’s tired sigh, and he feels awful for putting this kind of pressure on Tony, but he’s only seventeen and he’s _scared_ and after the beating he went through, he just wants to go home.  
  


“I know, kiddo, I know.”  
  


The rest goes unsaid. _There’s nothing I can do.  
  
_

“Hey, Mister Stark?” Peter speaks up after a little while, trying his best to act like everything’s okay.  
  


Tony looks down, arm tightening around Peter’s shoulders. “What?”  
  


“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs. He lifts his arm, old watch blinking midnight. The tech’s been destroyed, but he’s been left with the time. Small victories.  
  


A sigh escapes Tony’s mouth and he leans down to press a kiss to Peter’s temple. “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”  
  


Peter can’t help the tears this time, he curls tighter against Tony stomach, and lets himself cry.

  
*  
  
  
They’re left alone for a few hours, but eventually, the first girl and boy come back, no weapons in hand.  
  


Peter can’t help but cower, more than he’d like to admit.  
  


“Poor bug,” the girl coos sarcastically. “We can’t have you getting bored in here, can we?”  
  


The boy grins so wide it makes his face look inhuman. “Course not. But don’t you worry, we’re here to keep you company.”  
  


“Why are you doing this?” Tony demands, keeping his good arm firmly holding Peter against his side. “Money? If you want money, I can get you money.”  
  


Rolling his eyes, the boy shakes his head. “We don’t want money, Stark.”  
  


If it weren’t for Peter’s enhanced senses he wouldn’t have seen the twitch in the girl’s mouth, drawn up in a weird smile, wouldn’t have seen the boy’s flexing fingers.  
  


“Who’s doing this to you?” he asks, forcing himself to meet her eyes. “Please, we only want to help you. Did they threaten you? Your family? Who’s making you do this?”  
  


The girl winces, but tries her best to keep her face set in stone. “Nobody’s making us do anything, bug.”  
  


But Peter’s never been one to give up. “Please. Are they listening? If they are, that’s okay. If you’re keeping your family safe-”  
  


“No,” Tony growls. “You’re not hurting him anymore. It doesn’t matter who’s in charge, he doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore.”  
  


The girl’s eyes have gone a little bit wide, but there’s a hazy glaze over her eyes.  
  


With sudden clarity through his concussion, he remembers one of the other boys with a rattling pill bottle. Vaguely, he can remember one of them pausing and taking a pill yesterday during his beating.  
  


“They’re drugging you, aren’t they?” Peter asks. He’s only running on hope at this point. Hope that he’s getting it right and that if he gets enough right, they’ll trust him to help. “Somebody’s making you do this. You don’t want to though, do you?”  
  


The boy’s mouth turns down, smile dropping off his face. “We don’t have to answer any of your questions. All that matters to you is that we need to do a little more damage.”  
  


“Don’t touch him!” Tony shouts, trying to keep his hold on Peter, but the boy yanks the young hero forward onto the concrete by the collar and lands a kick to Peter’s chest.  
  


“Damian-” the girl says, grabbing the boy’s arm.  
  


“Shut up!” Damian shouts. His next swing hits Peter in the nose and the blood spills on the concrete, joining the other stains.  
  


The girl yanks at Damian’s arm, pulling him away from Peter. There’re tears spilling down her cheeks and she grabs Peter by the collar, pulling him back into a sitting position.  
  


“What do we do?” she asks, face crumpling. “You were right- I- All of us- We were taken and they’ve been- they’ve been drugging us and- and they know everything about us. Our friends, our family, they know exactly how to get us to be their puppets, but we- I can’t do this anymore.”  
  


Peter pushes the back of his hand against his nose, trying his best to staunch the blood. “We’re going to help you.”  
  


Tony fumbles for Peter, grabbing the kid by the shoulders. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”  
  


“It’s Christmas, Mister Stark, the time for giving, right?” he says.  
  


“You heard the kid, guess we’re helping you then. Let’s blow this popstand.”  
  


  
To fit with all of the other difficulties, it turns out Peter can’t walk. One of his shins are broken and his opposite ankle is too. So he has to limp awkwardly and painfully between Tony and Damian with the girl in the lead.  
  


“I’m Peter,” he says to break the tension that seems to linger. Mostly between Tony and Damian.  
  


“We know,” the girl says, pausing at a corner and waiting for Peter to give a thumbs up at it’s emptiness. “I’m Cass.”  
  


Turns out, they’d been in a cell in the basement of a pretty big farmhouse.  
  


Damian shushes him before he can reply. “We’re getting close to the quarters and the others might not react as sympathetically as Cass did.”  
  


Cass pushes open a door ahead of them, slipping into the room, and shutting the door behind her. The three of them hold their breath in the hallway, waiting and waiting and waiting-  
  


And then, the door reopens and five people leave the room. Everyone.  
  


They look just as intimidating as before and Peter can’t help but to grip Tony’s shoulder a little tighter, leaning into him.  
  


They had just beaten the shit out of Peter only a day before. He tells himself it’s only natural for him to be a little antsy.  
  


“Who’s doing this?” Tony demands, easily taking charge of the group. “Are they here?”  
  


“They left last night,” one girl pipes up. She’s easily the youngest, wide eyes latching onto Peter’s broken frame with so much guilt. “Thought we could handle it ourselves.”  
  


Peter flinches when somebody steps towards him and Tony practically snarls, shoving himself in front of Peter.  
  


“Hey, hey, hey,” the boy says, lifting his hands in defense. He’s got a thick southern accent. He pushes a water bottle toward Tony. “Just wanted to offer some water?”  
  


“We’ve gotta get a move on before somebody checks the security footage,” Cass says, already walking ahead.  
  


Damian’s face morphs into sympathy when Peter bites down on a whine of pain when he starts to limp forward.  
  


“Know I’m not the most trustworthy person, but you wanna lift?” Damian offers, extending his arms.  
  


Peter looks to Tony for approval, worry shining in his eyes, but he’s panting in pain and blood is still sluggishly falling from his nose and the tourniquets are soaked in blood as well, so he doesn’t really have much of a choice but to accept Damian’s offer.  
  


They’re putting a lot of trust in people who could easily kill them in their weakened state, Peter because of the beating, and Tony’s been weak ever since the snap. But again, they don’t have a choice but to keep going.  
  


“Hayden,” somebody hisses behind them as they’re walking. Peter peeks over Damian’s shoulder to see it’s the boy who offered him water talking to the youngest of the group.  
  


The young girl turns, lip split and black eye nearly swelling her eye shut. “It’s going to be okay.”  
  


“It’s Wednesday,” the boy replies like it means the world.  
  


And apparently it does because Hayden’s mouth drops open in a gasp and she turns quickly to find Peter already watching her.  
  


“It’s Wednesday,” she repeats. “It’s delivery day.”  
  


And just on cue, the door opens revealing a dozen or so guards, dressed from head to foot in thick armor.  
  


“Shit!” Peter exclaims, tumbling from Damian’s hold. “Run!”  
  


Everybody takes off back down the hallway except for Peter who can’t run even if he wanted to. He catches sight of Tony, grabbing Hayden by the elbow and tugging her into one of the rooms down the hallway.  
  


Cass grabs Peter at the very last second, pulling him into the bathroom just as the guns start firing.  
  


“What do we do?” she asks, eyes wide and hand still gripping Peter’s forearm. “We need a plan.”  
  


It’s not a _good_ plan, but it’s a plan nonetheless, so they don’t have much of a choice but to jump out the window.  
  


It’s a bit too long of a fall, especially for Peter who’s already a little bit past broken. So once he hits the ground, he bites down on his sleeve to muffle the cry of pain that threatens to escape him.  
  


“Peter, c’mon, we’ve gotta go, please,” Cass is begging by his head. He tries to think past the all-consuming pain, but it’s a little bit difficult.  
  


“I’ve got him, I’ve got him,” a new voice is saying. “Get out of here, Cass. We’ll meet up at the road.”  
  


He’s lifted into the new voice’s arms, head lolling as he lets out a whine of pain.  
  


Wind blows past them as the stranger hurries forward in the direction Cass had disappeared off in.  
  


There’s feet pounding behind them and gunshots echo in Peter’s ear and then the adrenaline finally kicks in.  
  


He blinks his eyes open, trying his best to keep his head on straight as he squints up into the stranger’s face. It’s the boy who had the pill bottle at the start.  
  


And four of the guards on their tail, guns raised and trying to get a good shot at them as they weave through the trees.  
  


Peter, uncaring of his secret identity at this point, swings himself over the guy’s shoulder, landing on the ground.  
  


“I’ll meet you there!” he shouts to the boy, before starting to take out the guards. He knows all he’s doing is hurting himself more, but at this rate, he might already bleed out, so he may as well do it while saving some others.  
  


As soon as he knocks the four guards out, only one new graze on his side, sluggishly spilling blood down his legs, he sits against a tree, panting for breath.  
  


The boy reappears from behind a tree.  
  


“Not going to let you die for me,” he says, jaw clenched as he pulls Peter back into his arms. “We’re not far from the road where we can get reception and get you some help.”  
  


“I’m Peter,” he says. It’s probably a stupid thing to say, but it makes the boy smile a little bit.  
  


“Micah.”  
  


Peter hangs onto the idea that all of these people are human. That he’s doing all of this for a reason. That he hasn’t made a mistake.  
  


“Merry Christmas, Micah.”

  
*  
  
  
“Thank god.”  
  


Peter snaps his eyes open, immediately searching for Tony who appears beside him and Micah.  
  


“Mis’er S’ark,” Peter slurs, dangerously close to passing out. “Made it.”  
  


“Got yourself shot first, though, didn’t you?” Tony says, eyes glassy with tears. “And before you ask, everyone’s here. Everyone made it out.”  
  


Peter finally lets out the breath he feels like he’s been holding since they got kidnapped. “Home?”  
  


Tony nods, brushing back Peter’s curls. “Yeah, we’re going home, kiddo, don’t you worry. We’ll get you to a doctor and you’ll be just fine.”  
  


“Wha’ ‘bout Christmas?” he asks, a pout falling on his mouth. Dizzily, he reaches out and grabs Tony’s sleeve.  
  


“We’ll do Christmas once you’re back on your feet, okay? We can wait.”  
  


Cars finally begin to pull up on the street, Avengers and Shield Agents and Police Officers, who all head into the forest to track down the guards and whoever was in charge.  
  


A big ambulance pulls up on the side of the road, and all eight of them pile into the back.  
  


Micah settles Peter down on the stretcher.  
  


“Where are we going?” Damian asks, carefully wrapping his arm in some bandage Tony passes him. “We can call our family when we get there, right?”  
  


“Of course,” Tony says, gaze not leaving Peter’s face. “We’re going to the Avengers Compound to get the kid patched up. I’d recommend telling Wilson and Barnes everything you know about your captors before you go though.”  
  


A silence falls over the ambulance as they speed towards the Compound, and Peter just focuses his attention on staying awake. He thinks he’s crying, but it’s hard to tell, hard to focus enough to find out, but he feels better knowing he’s given these people a second chance.

  
*  
  
  
“It wasn’t _bad_ , per se.” Tony overhears Hayden telling Sam. He’s waiting impatiently for Peter to make it out of the Med-Bay, but it’s already been over an hour and he hasn’t heard anything, so he figures he’ll make himself useful.  
  


“What do you mean?” Sam asks, jotting something down on his notepad.  
  


The six kids they rescued are scattered about the tower, giving statements, calling family, taking showers or naps or finding food to eat. Tony trusts them enough to take care of themselves and to stay out of trouble. And if not, he’s got Friday watching them.  
  


“I mean, the majority of the time it was just us living in a house, you know. It was easy enough to pretend we were just roommates at will,” she explains, eyes flickering up to meet Tony’s. She offers a tired smile. “How’s Peter?”  
  


“Don’t know,” he responds. “How are you?”  
  


She smiles a little bit fuller. “Better. My mom’s coming to get me. Haven’t seen her in… in a long time.”  
  


Damian and Seth, the boy who offered them the water bottle what feels like days ago but couldn’t have been more than a few hours, wander into the room.  
  


They both look freshly showered and rested, and more than that, they look _happy_.  
  


“Thanks for everything you’ve done for us, Mister Stark,” Damian says, pulling Hayden into a hug when she reaches them. “Really, if it weren’t for you and Peter-”  
  


Cass, Sofia, and Micah arrive as well, probably courtesy of Friday, and they look happy too.  
  


It’s an overwhelming amount of red Tony can feel disappearing from his ledger. He _saved_ six kids from a life like that. Scared that one wrong move would kill their family. Forced to hurt people for the sake of those they love.  
  


“It was all Peter, you don’t have to thank me,” Tony says. “He’s got a heart too big for his own good.”  
  


“Well, thank him from us,” Cass says. “And as much as we’d all love to make sure he’s okay and to, you know, repay you in any way we can, we-”  
  


Tony quickly cuts her off. “No, I totally get it. Go home. Just- Call me if you need anything, alright?”  
  


The kids all give him a hug, and way too many thanks for everything he did for them, and then they all head into the elevator, holding onto each other, and grinning so brightly at the future they’ve got.

  
*  
  
  
Peter’s okay.  
  


He always is.  
  


No matter how close to death he gets, he always makes it out alive. And he insists he’s good enough to go home for the tail ends of Christmas.  
  


They all crowd in around the Christmas tree, Peter tiredly leaning against Tony and watching Morgan pull open her Christmas presents first.  
  


“Spi’er-Man!” she shouts, showing Peter the Spider-Man onesie he got for her.  
  


“You like it, M?” Peter asks, smiling softly at her.  
  


She bounces up and down, hugging the onesie. “Yeah! Thank you, Petey!”  
  


She gives him a hug, nearly tripping into his side.  
  


“Careful, Little Miss, Petey’s still a little fragile,” Tony says, pulling Morgan into his own lap to keep her from reopening one of Peter’s _very_ recently stitched wounds.  
  


“Petey’s turn!” Morgan exclaims instead. She pushes a poorly wrapped present into Peter’s lap.  
  


Careful with the wrapping paper, Peter opens it to find a…  
  


“Oh my god,” he breathes.  
  


It’s a little friendship necklace that says _Best Big Brother_ on it and a matching one for Morgan that says _Best Little Sister_.  
  


Peter carefully clasps the necklace around his neck, grinning down at it before helping Morgan put hers on.  
  


“You like it, Petey?” she echoes. “Mommy helped me pick it out.”  
  


“I love it, M. I’ll never take it off.”  
  


She grins brightly and leans back against her dad’s chest.  
  


Tony’s phone buzzes on the table.  
  


Hayden made a groupchat with everyone’s numbers in it and his phone is almost immediately flooded with pictures of the kids with their families.  
  


“Look, kid,” Tony says, showing Peter the photos. “Looks like you helped a lot of people have happy Christmases this year.”  
  


Peter smiles, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder with a happy sigh. “I know it’ll sound bad, but I’m kinda happy we got kidnapped.”  
  


Tony lifts his phone and snaps a picture of the whole family. Pepper, May, Happy, Rhodey, Morgan, Peter, and Tony, all grinning at the camera, and he sends the photo to the groupchat.  
  


“Merry Christmas, Mister Stark,” Peter murmurs, smiling up at Tony.  
  


“Merry Christmas, kiddo.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ooops i hate this anyway ,,,,,, i'm super sick so whoops 
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://lyssismagical.tumblr.com/)


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